Battle Movements
by Blueberry Ragamuffin
Summary: Draco and Astoria accepted Scorpius's choice of friends long ago. Lucius is disgusted, but sees the opportunity in his grandson's position...rated teen for fighting and small sexual themes.
1. Family

Scorpius's parents had learned to accept his Gryffindor friends long ago, after his first letter home. He had written that he was in Slytherin and everyone was as he expected. Then, in a hasty end note, he wrote that his best mate was Albus Potter. He was debating with himself if he should use the same end note to tell his parents about Rose, his Weasley girlfriend. He was more worried about Mr. Weasley's reaction than his own parents', though.

His grandfather, on the other hand, acted just as brash and ignorant as he always had. Scorpius tried his best not to bring up his friends in conversation, but by the end of Lucius's visit, Draco would be aggravated and trying to soothe his son simultaneously.

Rose and Scorpius had been going out for a month or so when Al asked how his parents took the ordeal. The two knew each other for about six years at the time, so Al knew from Scorpius's face that the news hadn't been broken yet.

"They didn't give a hissy fit when we became friends, so why would they care about you and Rose?" Al asked.

"It's not my parents – it's my grandfather. I could ask Mum and Dad to keep it hush, but Mum's mouth needs for something to be pouring out of it."

"What if they hear it from someone else? They'd just be angry that you didn't tell them, and if Rose finds out that you haven't told them, she'll think that she embarrasses you –"

"Who embarrasses Scorp?" Lily asked. She had an annoying tendency to pop up into one's conversations, one's life, and often into one's troubles.

"No one," said Scorpius.

"It must be someone, everyone is embarrassed by someone. I embarrass my brothers, James embarrasses your friends, (or he tries to) and even you embarrass your Slytherin mates."

"It's none of your business, Lily," said Al.

"It is my business. Scorp's my brother's mate, and my cousin's snogging mate. He's practically family."

Al's stoic exterior broke with the red that overcame Scorpius's face. "It was _one time _when you walked in on us, and now you can't let it go, can you?" Scorpius said.

"Of course not," she ignored Scorpius's look of weak outrage. "It's not like I'd tell any adults or Slytherins. Like I said, you're family. This is what our family does."

"What's that, exactly? Joke each other?"

"Exactly," Al said. "You can't grow up with our relatives and not know how to take a joke."

His pale hand dabbed at the ink, which was shaking so much that it wasn't long before the entire page was splattered with black ink spots. After throwing another piece of parchment into the rubbish bin, Scorpius finally accepted defeat and decided to postpone the letter. He would be home in a week for the Christmas holiday, so he would most likely tell his parents then. That is, if he would be able to stop shaking.

Al's concern of the Malfoys finding out about Rose slowly sank into Scorpius's head. Rose was too bright to not notice if he started to hide their relationship. She would figure out after a few dropped hands, a few worried look-a rounds, that Scorpius was worried about their relationship becoming known. Rather than creating a row between one of the most hot-headed girls in Hogwarts, Scorpius just held her hand and hoped for the best.

Then there was Lily. Scorpius knew that her intentions weren't mean, but her words sometimes seemed to morph and sound cruel. Or maybe she meant to do that? He didn't know, and he also didn't usually care, but he worried that her voice would carry over to the Slytherin table when she talked about his "snogging mate." There was enough taunting that came with befriending Gryffindors, but if they thought he was gay the joking would be incessant. As he worried about the bullying, he remembered who his girlfriend was. He could picture Rose performing some under the table curses at the Slytherin gits. He couldn't hold his laugh from escaping, which had rather bad timing.

"What're you laughing at, Malfoy?" said Nott. Scorpius realised just how horrible his luck was when he saw that Nott had just emerged as the loser in a vicious round of fighting with a broken nose.

"Oh – I wasn't laughing at you, Nott. I was just thinking to myself."

Nott grew a twisted grin and chuckled. "Thinking of your Weasel girlfriend? Tell me, is she as wild under the covers as she is on the Quidditch pitch?"

The only thing Scorpius was positively aware of was his anger. How if he was dating a Slytherin girl, this wouldn't be happening. He wouldn't be pounding his face into Nott's nose; he wouldn't be pulled off of Nott and pushed onto the ground. He wouldn't be circled by a group of furious Slytherins with no one on his side.

She ran in only to find Al and Lily already at Scorpius's bedside. "What happened?" she demanded.

Al looked exhausted, but he was probably just depressed. "He was in the Slytherin common room, and I suppose he laughed at the wrong time. Nott claims that he was taunting him, but it was most likely the other way around."

"They circled him like a pack of wolves," Lily said. She looked irate; Rose fully agreed with her, even though she had no idea how Lily knew any of this.

Reading her mind, Al asked, "How d'you know?"

"How else could he have sustained these injuries? Someone could have knocked him unconscious, but these injuries weren't planned – the strikes were more harsh and in the moment. The Slytherins formed a circle around him, which is why he's hurt in his front and back."

"And how do you know where he's hurt?" Rose asked.

"Madame Pomfrey left her report around. She really shouldn't do that, anyone could have read it."

"Lily, how many times do I have to tell you? That's none of your business." Al said.

"Again, it is my business. If I hadn't nosed around, we never would have known how he was hurt. Now we can help protect him, because we know that this wasn't just from Nott. The entire house is starting to turn on him because he's friends with you and Rose. It's nobody's fault except for the abusers', but we need to keep a close eye out."

"How can we do that without telling him? Scorp will find out if we act like his bodyguards." Al said.

"Don't act like his bodyguards. Act like you normally do, just keep your eyes on the backs of your heads. It'll be easier for me, since I'm not really in your group."

"When did you become the smart one?" Al asked.

"From too much Rose and Aunt Hermione over the summer. They're horrible influences."

Lily left them to Scorpius and went off to who knows where. She could be an annoying insect if left to her own devices, but sometimes, she seemed to work well. Al remembered what she had said the previous day: "_He's practically family._"


	2. Jokes

Madame Pomfrey's miracles could not be measured, thought Scorpius. It was only two days after the attack that all of his bruises were healed, and except for feeling a bit woozy, he was walking on sunshine.

He tried his best to forget about the majority of the Slytherin blokes in his year wanting to bash his brains in, but Rose wouldn't let it go. She would give a fierce glare to the suspected Slytherins who beat Scorpius, and it would be maybe a minute (enough time to flee the scene) before their shoes caught fire.

Scorpius had known her for years, but he wondered what Rose's reaction to Nott's comment would be if she found out. For some reason, he expected for the mighty Gryffindor girl to crumble under embarrassment. He didn't know why; he'd never even seen her shed a tear through five years of hardcore Quidditch playing. He judged more on his response to see how hers would be. Scorpius typically brushed off the rude comments about his friends, but the taunts had never been quite so boorish before. He thought of it like a maths problem: If a stony person snapped at the comment, then a hot-head would become stony. Of course, the stony was completely on the exterior. Scorpius still recalled when he was a first year and he heard the phrase "Mudblood lover." He had heard his grandfather say it often, and knew it wasn't the nicest term. In his naiveté, he had asked Rose what a mudblood was, because she was the smartest in the year.

He had never felt so awful in his life. The moments before she had given him a painful Bat-Bogey hex, she was hurt. As if she thought he was different, and he turned out to be the same as what she thought. Eventually Al told him why Rose was so offended – her mother was a Muggle-born, and she had thought that he made fun of her mother. Al was confused as to how Scorpius didn't know what the m-word was.

"Only my grandfather's said it in front of me, and even then, I didn't know what it meant."

For a full month, Rose didn't care about what his grandfather said or why he never heard it. Only when Hagrid helped him pick out a book on dragon eggs for her did she soften up.

Again, he told himself to forget the past. There was no need to think of woes from five years ago. Now, he was in a train compartment with his friends, watching James and Fred play a gritty match of exploding snap. They had the best stamina for rough-housing, which wasn't surprising based on their personalities. Scorpius could imagine James and Fred setting off hidden pranks from their cribs. Based on Al's stories from home, it wasn't a far off speculation.

The train ride was as fun as usual - this time he was mainly teased about snogging Rose. The Slytherins didn't come into their compartment because even though none of them would ever admit it, Rose scared them. Scorpius found it hilarious.

After too short a time, the train arrived at 9 ¾. Scorpius felt his stomach fall to his feet as he looked out of the windows. Along with his parents, Lucius had decided to pick him up as well. If there was ever a way to test his Gryffindor friends' loyalty, it would be to have your Voldemort worshipping grandfather gather you from the station.

"Scorp? Are you alright?" Rose asked. One of her best and worst qualities was that she could read people like she read books.

"No," he said. "My grandfather's here."

Either the entire compartment had taken a rare quiet moment, or all conversation halted at the mention of Lucius Malfoy.

"Is he your mother's father?" Lily asked hopefully.

"No," he said again, "he's the Death Eater."

The situation would have been awkward enough if Scorpius was sitting alone, because even then, all eyes would be fixed on Lucius – the Death Eater who got off. To make everything just a bit worse, Scorpius was sitting with a compartment full of Gryffindors. He would emerge onto the station with them, and then have to talk with Mr. and Mrs. Potter about his visit to their house.

"Do you want us to go with you?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, you could hide behind us Weasleys; we'd have to change your hair colour, though...that blond mop will stand out." James said.

"No, I need to face him," Scorpius said. "He already knows I'm friends with you all, so why shouldn't he see it? Besides, I've got to go home eventually."

"But do they know that you're snogging a Weasley?" asked Hugo; he looked pointedly down at their linked hands.

Scorpius's face answered for him. Rose looked hurt, but then she turned back to her usual stony composure. Not wanting to start a row in front of half of her family, Scorpius settled on staring at the wall above Al's head.

When they went off to their families, Rose left to her parents without saying so much as a good-bye to Scorpius. Most of the Weasleys left him like that, except for Al and Fred. Al lingered because he was a true friend, and Fred lingered because he wanted to witness the confrontation. James would have stayed, but he always tried his best not to care about the Malfoys.

"Scorpius!" his mother exclaimed. "You've grown too much this year."

"He's a strong young boy – you remind me of your father," Lucius said to Scorpius in a bracing voice. He awkwardly placed his hand on his grandson's shoulder, who looked at it like a foreign object.

"Dad, I have to talk with the Potters..." said Scorpius. He would have talked for a bit with his parents, but he was anxious for Lucius to stop treating him as if he was suddenly a star child. Scorpius knew that Lucius was never particularly fond of his attitude and his friends. The only time he saw his grandfather was at Christmas dinner, and even then he hastily left Malfoy Manor.

Walking over to the Potters was like walking to security in that moment. He always knew their intentions, because they usually couldn't keep anything in. No one ever gave him that selfish smile or looked at him like a mad man when he had a different idea.

To Scorpius's horror, Lucius walked over to the Potters with Astoria and Draco. The Potters were usually with the Weasleys, so there was basically a snake slithering into a lion's den. He only looked forward, but he had a sick feeling in his stomach that Lucius was smiling, Draco was glowering at the wall, and Astoria was grinning like a giddy chipmunk and trying to ignore everything around her. Before anyone could say anything, Lucius startled everyone by saying, "Hello, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter. How are you?"

Only when Ginny elbowed his side did Harry notice that he was asked a question. "I'm fine, sir. And you?"

"I'm positively astounding. I believe young Scorpius has to talk with you lot?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "We've arranged for the kids to go to a Quidditch match with us." She held a casual tone, but her face held defiance towards Lucius, daring him to comment on his grandson being looked after by a Muggleborn.

Lucius plastered on a crusty smile and nodded. He curtly turned away and practically speed walked to his mode of transportation.

After a stiff silence James couldn't seem to resist adding, "You've got to love family, eh?"

* * *

"Scorpius, come out to garden with me, will you?" Lucius asked after dinner. Frankly, he didn't want to be anywhere near his grandfather after the station flop, but was not downright rude enough to deny him.

No matter how dusty and drab one could call Malfoy Manor, the garden could not possibly take one honest, degrading comment. The Malfoy garden was absolutely stunning at any time of day, but Scorpius found it most peaceful at night. Even his grandfather couldn't ruin the garden for him.

"What are you doing?" Lucius asked slowly, as if talking to a small, confused child.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Do you think you're actually like them? Those Gryffindor gits of yours, do you think that you aren't the sorest green thumb among them all?"

"They're my _friends_, I don't know if you know what those are –"

"You don't understand," Lucius said. "These aren't friends you've made, they're pawns –"

"Pawns for what, you mad old man?"

"The rise of rightful witches and wizards."

"You must be joking."

"No! You see how I'm treated,"

"You're treated horribly because you're a cowardly bastard."

The next thing he knew, Scorpius was on the ground and the echo of a slap was reverberating through the garden. Draco, who must've been watching from a window, was immediately outside and pointing his wand at his father's face.

"Get. Out." Draco said. "If you _ever _come here again, you'll find out just how close you raised me to Azkaban."

Lucius slowly backed away and left through the front gates. Once he left, Draco sat down on a bench looking like the image of exhaustion.

"Dad, are you okay?" Scorpius asked.

Draco gave a hollow laugh. "I should be asking you that. How hard did he hit you?"

"I'm fine, Dad," said Scorpius. "You're the one who looks close to fainting."

Scorpius tried to give a reassuring smile, but it didn't work well. Draco was paler than usual, and his usually sleek composure was shattered. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but decided against it in the end.

"So, who's playing in that Quidditch match?"


	3. The Match

Despite Scorpius pleading to simply floo over to the Potters, his father insisted that he drop him off at their door. Scorpius knew that it was because of Lucius – Draco had always tried his best to avoid the Potters and Weasleys in the past.

Scorpius and Draco didn't talk about that night. Scorpius suspected that his mother knew, but she never said anything either. He could feel her eyes boring into the cheek where he had been slapped. She was probably used to the bullying from Hogwarts, yet there was a sick fright in the air that stunk of pure abuse. It got Scorpius thinking about how his father grew up. Narcissa would never have let anyone lay a hand on her son, and sometimes he imagined that Lucius was more fearful of his wife than of Voldemort. If Narcissa was still alive, Lucius probably wouldn't be after he hit her grandson.

Again Scorpius tried to forget the past, no matter how recent. He was going to a Quidditch match with his friends who would never know that his grandfather hit him. He would never tell them about it, and they would never know.

Draco and Scorpius had very different personalities; one thing that they could talk about through days was Quidditch. Quidditch melted away the awkwardness from breakfast and distracted them from where they were going. Even Quidditch couldn't last forever, though.

"Would you have ever guessed that you'd be dropping me off at the Potters to go to a Quidditch match?" Scorpius asked.

Draco's eyes widened in a slightly humorous and slightly shocked manner. "Definitely not," he said. "If you had told me this a decade or so ago, I would've suggested St. Mungo's."

"It isn't _that _shocking, is it?"

"It's more shocking that you're a Slytherin, actually."

"How? I'm a Malfoy – it was practically decided I would be a Slytherin before I could breathe."

"No, it wasn't," Draco said. "You act just like your mother. It was a wonder even she was in Slytherin. Probably the same reason you are – you were both born into it."

It was one of those moments where things kept becoming more and more confusing for Scorpius. He wanted to ask more questions, but they were now at the Potters.

Ironically, Draco actually drove a car. Astoria always detested apparation, and wouldn't allow her young son to be apparated anywhere. Even though that young boy was about to learn how to apparate himself, the Malfoys still had a Muggle car. Whenever Scorpius was taken anywhere with his parents, he was either flooing or in a car.

As Scorpius had predicted, Draco walked him to the door and knocked for him. It was a suspenseful moment when they were waiting for the door to open. Would it be Al, who would quietly greet them and invite Draco inside, who would decline? Or would it be Hugo, the boy destined to hate anything with a green tie and blond hair?

Neither of those scenarios were played out. He knew that she was kind and non-judgemental. He also knew that she was one of the Gryffindors who hadn't gotten along with his father.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Scorpius said. She was nothing but genial to him, yet she had the sort of presence that intimidated him. The fear only increased with the knowledge that he was going with her daughter.

"Hello Scorpius, Mr. Malfoy," said Hermione.

Draco gave a curt nod while Scorpius smiled uncomfortably. She noticed the tension and invited them inside. Draco practically ran for the car and wished them both a good time.

Hermione wasn't one to beat around the bush. "How are things with you and Rose?"

Scorpius practically yelped. It seemed to amuse Hermione, who gently smiled at him.

"Did she tell you?"

"She didn't have to," Hermione said. "I'm sorry to say that you two are incredibly obvious."

"Mr. Weasley...?"

"He doesn't want to know, so he'll deny all of the signs until your wedding day."

"_What_?"

"Scorp! Come here, you need to see this!" Al yelled out. Scorpius was much too confused that morning, so he just followed his friend's voice and tried to forget too many things.

* * *

Quidditch would always be pure magic to him. He had grown up seeing his brothers play the sport in wonder. He had felt pride in his heart when he soared in the skies and could see Hermione's face from the crowd. One of the proudest moments of his life was when he had taught his children how to ride a broom.

No matter how content Ron was, it didn't take much to break his mood. For instance, when the Malfoy sat next to Rose he was also sitting beside Al, but Ron didn't care about that. Harry noticed Ron's agitation.

"Good grief, they're just _sitting there _and you think they're up to something."

"They are," Ron said.

"You thought they were up to something since they were six,"

"That's because they were!"

"Stop being so paranoid, Ron. Rose and Scorp are just friends," Ginny said.

"What do you think, Hermione? You seem awfully quiet today," said Harry.

"I like Scorpius," she said.

Ron was about to retaliate when Ireland scored against France. The entire section of the stands stood up in cheers. There could be no conversation for two minutes, because they were next to a group of very enthusiastic fans who continued to holler much past the fact. Their energy was contagious when it wasn't annoying; Hugo, a generally soft-toned boy, could be seen screaming for Ireland. Quidditch was definitely in the air.

"That's not good enough. How do you know they didn't recruit him?" Ron asked.

Harry characteristically rolled his eyes; Ginny gave Ron a glare; Hermione gave him a reaction with so many different emotions, it was difficult to see what she conveyed.

"I'm not talking about this anymore," Ginny said. "There are ten points left until Ireland wins, and I'm not going to waste them arguing with my git brother."

The adults fell silent and enjoyed the sport of offspring watching. There were little things that their children did that amused them. The way Rose would glare at rule breaking; the way Al would roll his eyes; the way James's face lit up like a child's on Christmas when he thought of Quidditch. So many other things interested them about their children, but there was no possible way to name them all.

Finally, Ireland's best Chaser was speeding towards the goal posts. He dodged the coming Beaters and Bludgers like a true bird of flight. Just when he was about to score, a random Bludger slammed into his back. A mournful groan was heard throughout the stadium.

Hope was not lost. The main Chaser managed to throw the Quaffle to his teammate, a not as agile player. The fans were on the tips of their toes, waiting to see what would happen. With every turn of the broom and dodge of the Bludger, the crowd let out a collective breath. One second later, they were holding it again.

After what seemed like a painful eternity, the Chaser was face to face with the Keeper. The Chaser headed for the right goal post. The Keeper stayed in his centre post; then, the Chaser seemed to really want to score in that hoop. The Keeper rushed to the right goal only to find the Quaffle zooming past his ear into the centre post.

The crowd erupted into cheers. People sitting next to each other hugged each other and jumped up and down in the fashion of a young girl. The section holding the Potters and the Weasleys was bursting with victory and joy. Ron looked down to see his daughter's face; she was always very vigorous when it came to Quidditch.

Instead his stomach fell to the ground. The laughing and jumping was murdered. Quickly, but not quick enough, Scorpius pulled away from Rose. He was caught in the moment just like everyone else...except no one else decided to snog his daughter.

All of the children were looking from the duo to the adults. Ron was too fuming to realise it, but they were actually looking from Rose to Ron. Hermione grabbed his arm and tried to soothe him, which didn't accomplish one thing.

"What the _bloody hell _do you think you're doing?" Ron raged. Rose was unfazed and Scorpius looked like he wanted to run with his tail between his legs.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Weasley it was all my fault, don't get mad at Rose." Scorpius pleaded.

Ron was furious that the snake had the nerve to talk directly to him. Hermione sensed that he forgot that Scorpius was a sixteen-year-old boy. All he saw was a Malfoy.

As Ron grabbed his wand and stepped forward, Hermione pushed him back. Harry helped Hermione calm him down and Ginny went over to Rose and Scorpius. "Come with me," she said. They were both so guilty, they followed her without whining.

"Aunt Ginny –" Rose stared. Ginny's intimidating eyebrow rise stopped her.

"How angry is he?" Scorpius asked.

After a moment of internal debating, Ginny said, "He would be angry at whoever went out with his baby girl. I can't say that your surname helps, Scorpius."

He pulled the back of his hair out of stress. "My parents don't even know yet," he said. "My dad's going to kill me."

* * *

Ron paced the kitchen in anticipation. He couldn't remember feeling so furious at Rose – she was always the good one. Hugo was the one who lit objects on fire and jumped out at everyone. Rose was sly; she wouldn't trick very often, so once she did, it was a surprise. James and Fred had learned from her tactics.

She was smart enough not to do stupid things teenagers do, thought Ron.

"She isn't perfect, Ron." Hermione said. He gave her the astounded _how the bloody hell did you know what I was thinking_? look. She smirked and said, "You aren't very quiet when you're angry, love."

"Why would she do this to me?"

Hermione laughed. She was laughing too much at the moment. "Do you think that she has a personal vendetta against you?"

"Yes!" he shouted. "Of all the idiots at Hogwarts that she could be with, she chose _Malfoy._"

"How many times must I tell you? He isn't Draco, he's Scorpius."

"He puts her in danger! What if one of those pureblood maniacs decides that they don't want for their dear little Scorpy to go out with a Weasley? Do you think that they won't try to stop it?"

"Rose is smart. Besides, how many supremacists do you hear of these days? They're all in hiding, dead, or in Azkaban. Even if one of them was out there, he or she would just remove Scorpius's name from the family line."

Ron perked his ears up at the sound of a car in the driveway. "Here's the man of the hour," Ron said. Hermione jabbed him in the ribs, which only deepened his frown.

The kids were sitting in the living room with Harry and Ginny. They all heard the car and were getting up from their seats. Rose and Scorpius were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, staring into their laps. After thirty seconds, they were the only people besides Ron and Hermione in the room.

Hermione made sure that his wand was safely put into her jacket. She didn't need or want a quarrel with Malfoy and she knew that Rose would only retaliate against Ron if he brought out magic. They waited in silence for Draco to knock on the door.

With the knocks came bullets in Scorpius's stomach. His father had tolerated his friends, but how would he feel about Rose?

The typical dance was played out; Hermione asked if he wanted to come in and Draco hesitantly agreed. He searched the room for Scorpius; he saw Scorpius, and his face cleared of the unease of a Weasley home. Draco also noticed how every person in the room was upset in some manner. Granger was worriedly glancing between Weaselbee and Rose; Weaselbee was glaring at Scorpius; Rose was staring into her hands.

"Is everything alright?" Draco asked.

"No, it isn't," Ron said instantly. "Your son –"

"Dad!" Rose yelled out.

Granger glared at all of her family. She seemed to have an affect, because they both fell silent. "This isn't for either of you to say. This is between Scorpius and his father."

"It's our business that he's snogging our daughter!"

Draco slowly turned to his son, resembling a deadly cobra. "Is this true?"

Regardless of his initial fear and embarrassment, Scorpius squared his shoulders to his father. "Yes, it is true."

Draco's mouth thinned and his eyebrows dropped. "I'll be in the car," he said.

"No," Hermione said. "Please don't be angry at him."

Both Draco and Ron looked at her incredulously. "Why do you care?" Ron asked.

"He's been friends with Rose for years. Now they're...a bit more than friends. He's almost family."

"You're saying that you actually think of my son as _family_?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

Draco looked back and forth between Hermione and Ron with a deep-thinking look on his face. Scorpius was watching his father intently, as if trying to force the words he was about to say back down his throat.

"He isn't yours."

The other Potters and Weasleys watched as the Malfoys walked to their car and sped out from the long driveway. Even though not all of them liked Scorpius, and most of them disliked Draco, there was a sense of final, depressing loss as they disappeared.


	4. Persuasion

The lean, elderly man clanked his cane down the hallway with the same nervously pounding heart he had thirty years ago. Albeit his heart had significantly aged with wear and stress, there was no doubting the fear it held. He told himself that what he was doing, the act of war and cruelty, was because of his family. They didn't know how things were supposed to be. His own grandson didn't understand. He needed to _make _them understand.

"Lucius, what a time it has been!" said Nott. He broadly grinned and shook Lucius's hand. "I can't believe that this hasn't started sooner. We all know that he can't stay down for long."

"I truly believed that he was gone," Lucius said. "Perhaps he isn't. But that isn't why I've called you here."

"Why, exactly?"

"You know what it's like, Theodore. Our families are now pariahs. My son hates me for his service, and my grandson has adopted the same attitude. This must end."

"I understand," said Nott. "My son could never comprehend the service as well as I could. His daughter is worse than he is. Do you know that he sends her to a Muggle primary school?"

"Disgusting," agreed Lucius. "Purebloods are now acting like the Weasleys. Even the Weasleys aren't Purebloods anymore – those rug rats married people of all blood statuses. Everyone can agree that they were blood traitors, but there is a certain pity in my heart when a family loses its status."

"That is why we must do this, my dear friend," said Nott in earnest. "We are not only doing this for ourselves, but for our families; for Wizardkind."

"I have arrived," Lethia announced. She twirled around in her mangy robes as if she were a Muggle ballerina. Lethia was always a bit wrong in the head, but she knew how to cast a curse, so she was a Death Eater. It was her sister who they really needed.

Serefina was a merciless comrade. She reminded many of Bellatrix, her not-so distant cousin. After the Battle of Hogwarts Aurors had interrogated and tracked her without prevail, since she had no proof of crimes. While she wasn't arrested, Serefina still held an enormous amount of pride post-Voldemort. No one would hire a former Death Eater for the high-paying jobs she applied for, so she lived in extreme poverty. Despite her starved appearance and matted hair Serefina still held her Pureblood poise and dignity. She even had enough dignity to look disgusted to be related to Lethia.

"My dear Fina, how are you these days?" Nott asked her.

"Dirty and furious. It shows how horrible this post-war society is when a Pureblood can't even find a manor to live in."

"Oh dear," Lucius lamented. "It isn't your fault that this has happened. Narcissa and I barely held onto Malfoy Manor."

"Lucky you," she said scathingly. "You Malfoys hid behind sympathetic Aurors instead of owning your Death Eater ways."

"Now, now," Lethia said. "There's no excuse for that talk, Serefina."

"No soap is an excuse for everything!"

"Calm down, Fina," Nott said. "We can't afford to fight amongst each other. We're the only ones left –"

"For now," said Serefina.

"That's right," added Lethia in enthusiasm. "The younger generation is causing a bit of a dark stir at Hogwarts."

"Since when?" Lucius asked.

"This January," she said happily. A group of some students will start up a rebellion of sorts."

"Lethia!" Serefina reprimanded. "We mustn't talk of that yet!"

"So _sorry, _dear sister." Said Lethia as she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Back to the topic at hand," Nott said, "Lucius has concocted quite the plan for us. His grandson is in a very convenient position – he is great friends with the Potters and Weasleys. With young Malfoys help, we can surely even out the Wizarding food chain."

"There is a snag," said Lucius. "My grandson, like his father, wants nothing to do with me or the Dark Arts. He would never choose to cooperate with us."

"His choice isn't a 'snag,'" said Serefina. "With a little...persuasion..."

Lucius gulped; he didn't at all like how Serefina was twirling her wand about, or how the familiar glint of evil surfaced in her eyes.

"I'm sure we'll be able to convince him, Lucius," said Nott. He must have tried to look comforting, but his words only scared Lucius. He had forgotten that Death Eaters protect their own, and _only _their own. Scorpius was simply a pawn that would be crushed under their plan to them. He wasn't a person to them.

Lucius had tormented himself over his cowardice in the Battle of Hogwarts. He had always thought that if he could go back, he would fight side-by-side with his fellow Death Eaters. Now, as he watched the three Death Eaters scheming about how to control his grandson's mind, he remembered exactly why he had fled. He wasn't running alone, but with his wife and son. They were now forgotten in the dust of his so-called "glory."

* * *

"Scorpius, come out of your room. Your mother has picked a lovely batch of strawberries for you."

"That's nice of her," Scorpius said through his pillow.

"Why don't you show her that, instead of laying under your bed forever?"

Scorpius gave a lazy grunt. Nonetheless, he rolled himself out of bed and walked through the door with his unkempt hair and wrinkled pyjamas.

"Whoa, hold it, Scorpius," Draco said. "No Malfoy ever leaves his bedroom with hair like that."

"Dad, I don't think that Mum cares."

"Of course she doesn't. However, we could have invited guests over for breakfast. I can assure you that they would care."

"Fine, I'll brush my hair." Scorpius said in a gloomy voice. Draco seriously evaluated Scorpius; he had none of his usual excitement. Just by looking at him, Draco saw a mirror to his sixteen-year-old self. That vision worried him beyond his wits. Scorpius was supposed to be a happy child without the bigotry Draco was raised with. What did he think of his father, the man who had stormed off in a rage from his friend's house because he kissed a girl?

"Do you think that I'm angry with you?" Draco asked his son.

"Of course you are," said Scorpius in surprise. "I kissed your enemy's daughter."

"I was angry," Draco admitted. "I was so furious that of all the girls you could have snogged, you chose a Weaselbee – sorry, I mean Weasley. I can't be angry with you for your friends. They aren't immersed with Dark Arts, which is how I had always hoped your friends would be. They also accept you, despite the name I've soiled for you. If anything, they're better than I could have imagined. If they didn't have those surnames, I probably wouldn't give such a fuss over it."

Scorpius was momentarily tongue-tied. He hadn't expected his father to give a speech to him about his own friends. He wanted to hug him, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Thanks, Dad. That really means a lot to me."

"No problem. Now, your mother swore that she picked those strawberries for you, but I'm afraid of leaving her alone with them for much longer."

And so the father and son left the dark room, completely and blissfully unaware of the Death Eater hiding in the hall closet that they were about to pass by.

* * *

**A/N: ooh, cliff-hanger! I'll give you a virtual cherry if you review :)**


	5. Family Issues

Rose was never one for rolling with the punches. In fact, she preferred to punch back instead of rolling away like an idiot. So when she saw Scorpius practically being pulled by the ear to his father's car, she was furious.

"Dad, what the bloody hell was that?" she roared after their relatives had left.

"Rose!" Hermione chastised. She would never give up a chance to tell her to stop cursing.

"That was me protecting my daughter!" Ron said.

"No, it was you being an overprotective git, as always!"

"Enough!" Hermione yelled. "Do I need to put you two in time-outs?"

"Because of Dad, Scorp is probably going to break up with me," said Rose in a high voice with tears forcing the gates open. Humiliated, she stomped to her room.

Hermione sat down at the table and pinched the bridge of her nose. Ron paced frantically, mumbling about blond gits and Death Eaters. Hugo was the only one who didn't seem in any way distraught.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked his parents. "She just ran up there crying over her boyfriend, and neither of you went to comfort her?"

"If I went up there, I'm afraid that Rose and I would both be in worse positions." Ron said.

"She doesn't want me up there," said Hermione. "She thinks I don't understand her."

"Let her see that you understand – that you know all of that mushy shit girls seem to know about."

"Hugo! Do try not to swear in front of your mother!" Ron chastised.

"Sorry, show her that you understand all of that girly _rubbish_,"

Hermione sighed; of course it would be Hugo to bring sensibility into every situation. "You're right," she said. Hugo wore an annoyingly smug expression, which he probably learned from Rose, who had in turn learned it from Hermione.

Walking up the flight of stairs was similar to walking up to the Headmaster's office – or so she imagined. Hermione geared herself for the bitterness that was adolescence and knocked on her daughter's door.

"_What_?" Rose said. Hermione could hear the tears in her voice.

"We need to talk," said Hermione. Rose didn't reply; "I'm coming in,"

Surprisingly, Rose didn't put up a fight. She was sprawled across her bed, with her pillow tucked tightly under her chin. Hermione walked to the edge of the bed and sat down.

"At first, my parents didn't want for me to go with your father." Hermione said.

"What?" Rose asked. The new bit of information seemed to suspend her out of her misery, if only temporarily.

"I erased their memories of me and sent them to Australia during the war. I didn't want my parents, innocent Muggles, to be caught in all of the violence. After Voldemort was defeated, I came back for them and gave them back their memories. I told them everything; how I went off to fight against Wizard supremacists and didn't want them in the middle of it all. They were so horrified at what I had gone through, so elated that I was fine...they were feeling so many things all at once. They wanted me to be closer to them than ever."

"While this is very interesting, what does it have to do with Dad?"

"Just wait," Hermione said in the manner of a teacher of an impatient pupil. "By then, I was going out with your father. I told them about him: his humour, his hair, his family, and so many other things. While I was telling them, they just stared at me.

"My father said, 'You're going to be involved with one of the ones who started the war you've fought in?' I told him that Ron was a good Wizard, a boy who had helped me fight in the war. They wouldn't have any of it. All that they heard was 'Wizard,' 'boy,' and 'clueless about Muggles.'"

"But Grandma and Grandpa are so intelligent," Rose said. "I mean, Grandpa taught History at a university!"

"When the war strikes close to home, one forgets their morals, their beliefs, and even their mind. All that they know is fear. All that my parents saw was a supremacist."

"How did you change their minds?" Rose asked. "You _did _change their minds, right?"

"Of course I did. You see how they dote on him. I urged them to just meet him, and eventually they agreed because they saw how much he meant to me. We all had dinner together, and they found his confusion of Muggle culture fascinating instead of insulting, thank Merlin. It took time, but you see the end result. By the time Ron bought an engagement ring, my father was giving him 'Muggle lessons,' as he liked to call them. My dad would do a simple Muggle thing, like take him to the cinema to see a film or go shopping in a Muggle prank shop."

"So you're saying that they've just got to meet each other?"

"Exactly. In fact, we should arrange a tea time with them."

Rose laughed, picturing Draco Malfoy sipping tea and munching on biscuits while sitting across from her, Ron, Hermione, and Hugo. "Could we invite Al and Lily too?" Rose asked. "Only because it'll feel much too formal; you know those Potters know how to make a party."

Hermione laughed. "Of course, James will have to come as well, if you invite his siblings. You know how very sensitive your cousin is." She said with a sarcastic giggle.

"The only reason I don't want to invite him is because he's such a..._Gryffindor._"

"Your brother isn't just as Gryffindor-esque as James?"

"That's true," Rose agreed. "Maybe we shouldn't invite any Potters at all."

"Really? I think that it's a great idea."

"Now is not the time to be sarcastic, Mum."

* * *

"You want us to do _what_?" James asked incredulously.

"She wants us to have tea with the Malfoys, you git." Lily said as she punched his arm. "I'm definitely coming. I've been waiting years to see their peacocks."

"I think those were just Lucius Malfoy's," Al said.

"Why must you ruin my fun?" Lily asked her brother.

"Anyways," interrupted Rose. "I'd really like it if you three could come."

"I'm coming to see if Draco Malfoy's completely bald," James said. "But why exactly do you want us to come? Wouldn't you want for just the Malfoys and your piece of pie to meet first?"

"James, they aren't desserts," Al said.

"That's what I was thinking," said Rose.

"You were thinking that your side aren't desserts?" Lily asked.

Rose sighed deeply. Was this what it is like for her mother when she talked to the adult relatives? "I was thinking that my side and the Malfoys should meet first. Then I thought of how incredibly awkward that would be, and I caved in and invited the rowdiest bunch of relatives I know."

"You think that we're the rowdiest in the family?" James asked in an extremely complimented voice as he put a hand to his heart. "How lovely of you."

"I know you two are going," she said to James and Lily. "What about you, Al?"

To everyone's surprise, Al was looking as though he wasn't sure he could attend. "Are you joking?" James asked him. "This is going to be the most hilarious family moment of the year!"

"We're one week away from a new year," Al reminded him.

"That's how I know this will be the funniest," said James.

"Don't worry, we'll tie him up and floo him to your place," Lily said. Everyone left, and then the room was empty except for Rose and Al.

"Why don't you want to go?" Rose asked. "I thought that you'd want to support Scorp and me."

"I do want to support you two," he said. "I actually went to Malfoy Manor once, and it was the most awkward experience of my life so far."

"When did you go to Malfoy Manor?" Rose asked. Scorp was always either invited or he invited himself to a Potter-Weasley function. She never even asked about his home.

"The summer after second year. You were fighting, _again_, so he didn't invite you. It was also a sleepover, so you wouldn't have come anyway. Lev, Scorp, me, and Iggy were there. To cut it short, Lucius Malfoy barged in, very pissed, and very angry at seeing a Potter at Malfoy Manor. He thought I was my dad – he yelled at me for ruining his life as a Death Eater, for killing his friends and family. We were all so terrified; we thought he would pull out his wand. Draco Malfoy came in and took him back to his own home. We were having fun before that, then it became the most awkward moment of my life."

"Bloody hell Al, that was almost four years ago. Lucius Malfoy won't come in pissed and delusional."

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that when I see those gates, Scorp, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, and I will be thinking of that night."

Rose was so frustrated at her family. Her stupid, stubborn family could never let things go!

"I can let things go," Al said in a hurt voice. Apparently, her thoughts weren't as quiet as she thought. "I have let things go. The next time Scorp, me, Lev, and Iggy saw each other again, we all ignored it."

"Why can't you ignore it at tea time?"

"It's different," insisted Al. "We'll be at the scene of the crime."

"I'm not worried. Maybe you and James thought that Lily was joking when she said that they would tie you up, but neither of you saw the way she looked at me when she said it."

Rose started to walk out of the room. As the door clanked shut, she heard Al yell to her, "Fine, I'll go!"

* * *

The room was dark enough to be terrifying, but the voices chilled the bone. They echoed around the room, chasing away hope and lightness in exchange for fear and ghosts. Scorpius had a hunch that the voices belonged to people previously in the room. This thought was not at all encouraging, since the voices were all of torture and agony. The darkness was so complete that he couldn't see his own hand, much less his parents. He hoped that they were in the same room with him, so that when the lights turned on they could find each other. He knew how futile his hope was, but that was why he called it a hope.

In his bout of consciousness, Scorpius never saw the light. He heard loud banging and forceful entrances; whoever took him must have come for him. He wanted to see anything at that point, whether it be a scarred face or an imaginary friend. The darkness was beginning to drive him mad.

His captor grabbed his pyjama collar and pulled him above the ground, so that he felt the sick sensation of an anticipating fall. "We'll turn on the lights," the captor – a woman – said in a tempting voice. "The only thing you have to do is make a promise."

Scorpius yearned for his voice, to tell the woman that he would do anything for his sanity. She must have sensed his body language quite accurately, for she knew his response. "You must promise to become a faithful Death Eater."


	6. Visitors

Weasley breakfasts were typically very hectic. But with the new awkwardness in the name of Rose is Dating Scorpius Malfoy, the quartet savoured every moment of silence.

"How odd," said Hermione as she buttered her toast. . "They still haven't responded."

"When did you send the letter?" Hugo asked.

"The twenty-sixth, four days ago."

"Maybe it was lost," Ron suggested.

"No, my owl is as fast as the new Trail Blazer 5000." Rose said.

"Oh, you wanted me to send your owl?" Hermione asked.

"Mooooom!"

"Sorry! Either way, they would've gotten our owl by now."

"Maybe you should take a stroll by Malfoy Manor," said Hugo.

_That _was the reason why they tried to not speak together anymore. Someone would say an innocent comment that turned served a soup of awkwardness as the main dish. It would be custom to go to a person's house when an owl remained forgotten for a few days. Again, Rose and Scorpius weren't normal people, and therefore weren't a normal couple.

"Yeah, you were gonna go with the Potter kids, right?" Ron asked without looking at anything besides his oatmeal. "You should just pop in with your entire Gryffindor year at Slytherin Headquarters."

"_Ron_!" Hermione shrieked as she slapped his arm. "He didn't –"

Rose was already gone from her seat. Ron tried to go after her, but Hermione shoved him (rather forcefully, as he fell to the floor) and took off after her daughter. The chase was very close between the two; Hermione had a lot of gust in her for a forty-something woman. Rose, however, was a well-trained Quidditch player who grew up fleeing her cousins' nearly lethal pranks. She gave a spurt of speed and dashed into the broom shed. Hermione was now gaining on her daughter; she was so close, she reached out to tug on Rose's shoulder –

Hermione fell onto the ground from the broom's start-up. When she looked up a second later, her daughter was a soaring red blur in the sky.

* * *

"I can't wait to go to Malfoy Manor," James said as he gulped down his pumpkin juice. The Potters all stopped what they were doing to deadpan stare at James.

"What?" he asked. "Don't tell me that none of you saw Draco Malfoy's hair falling out on King's Cross."

"_James_," Ginny said. "Don't go to see Malfoy's baldness."

"Even Mum admits it!"

"James," Harry said. "Don't ever stare at a bald man's head."

"That's easy for you to say, Dad," Lily said. "You just have those 'sophisticated greys' as you call them. Now if I had Mr. Malfoy's hair, I would at least buy some of Mr. Goldon's hair regrowth serum."

Before anyone else could comment on Draco Malfoy's hair, someone knocked on the front door. Harry, as usual, got up to answer it.

"Rose," said Harry. "Why'd you run away?"

"Wha – what?" she asked. Her entire family was out of the ordinary, but that simply isn't the first thing you say to someone who just appeared at your front door. Harry simply raised an eyebrow that said, _Are you really trying to fool me_?

"How can you tell?" she asked, defeated.

"You have no idea how many times I've been flying away from somewhere – or someone," he said with that annoying look of "understanding" that every parent seems to have. "Everyone's up, come and have some breakfast."

"Thanks," she said.

"Rose, hi," said Lily. "Do you have any word on the peacocks yet?"

"Lily, what peacocks?" Ginny asked.

"The Malfoy peacocks!"

"Oh, yeah," Rose said. She made a quick calculation and continued, "How about we go after everyone finishes breakfast?"

James, Al, and Lily looked excited about the sudden visit; their parents made different stories with their faces. Harry probably knew that Ron and Hermione didn't know about her little journey to Malfoy Manor. Ginny could read expressions as well as Nana could, so she certainly knew that Rose was feeling guilty about leaving her parents and brother behind. Rose internally grimaced when they looked at each other and nodded.

"Do you know what I was thinking, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"What, my lovely ginger bride?" he replied, to the general disgust of the surrounding teenagers.

"I'd like to see some peacocks, too."

* * *

They drove to Malfoy Manor in Harry and Ginny's car, a 1977 Ford Mustang that everyone except for the couple (and Arthur, of course) gagged at. Nobody really understood why they would buy such a beat-up hunk of metal when they could easily afford a much more pleasurable car.

Al never could comprehend why witches and wizards bought cars and motorcycles and such when they could easily Apparate to anywhere they wanted. Scorp's parents had a good reason a decade ago, but their son would be learning how to Apparate in a few months. Al didn't even know why his parents bought their car, since they had started Apparating with him and his siblings once they had started Hogwarts.

All thoughts of magical transportation were swept from his mind when he saw Malfoy Manor. It was as if a storm conjured from hell had devoured the place. The large, previously elegant French entryway doors had been thrown about twenty feet away from their home. Windows were smashed clear out of their holdings, and glass littered the ground. As he kept looking up, he saw something he'd only read out of books and heard from his parents, aunts, and uncles.

The Dark Mark shined defiantly down on the land. Al instinctively looked at his parents, but could only see the backs of their heads and hear their horrified gasps. His siblings and cousin were watching the Dark Mark, perhaps wondering like he was if it would plainly fade out of the sky and then it would all be a false alarm with Scorp popping up behind a bush and restoring his home to its normality.

While his numb mind was dawdling on in its senseless thoughts, his parents were making a plan. Harry pulled out of the driveway and sped away to a sunny park with families engulfing it.

"Get out of the car," he said.

"But Daddy," Lily whined.

"I said, _get out of the damn car._"

His voice scared them all. He had practically growled, in a tone that none of them had ever imagined from him. When he turned back to look at them, his expression of pure security and action pushed them out of the vehicle. They hopped out of the car, each of them moving dazedly around.

"Keep your wands at the ready," Ginny told them.

"Mum, nobody's going to –" James started.

"You think that they won't?" Harry asked him. "Just because they look like happy Muggles on a nice day out doesn't mean that they couldn't be Death Eaters with killing curses up their sleeves."

The car sped off back towards the Manor, leaving the adolescents with a strange sense of fear and surprise combined. They knew that Harry was an Auror and that he and Ginny had lived through a war, but all of that seemed to be forgotten when looking through their wedding album or seeing pictures of all of their children taking their first steps.

"They lived through a war together," Al practically breathed out. His voice was low, yet he knew by the way everyone bowed their heads that they heard him.

* * *

"You're a quiet one," the woman said. "It isn't that difficult a question to answer: light or darkness. Saneness or madness. It's all up to you."

"Pl-please," he stammered out, with a sense of accomplishment nonetheless, "let me out."

"So you will become a Death Eater?"

"A-ah, no," he said, albeit hesitantly.

"That doesn't sound like a satisfactory 'no' to me," she said in a sing-song voice. Nevertheless, she dropped him to the floor and he heard her sniff like an animal that caught scent of its prey. "Well, it looks like you'll have more time to think it over," she said with undeniable glee. "We have other visitors to tend to."

* * *

**A/N: Yay for updates! I actually felt guilty about not updating this story for 18 days, so huzzah ;) **


	7. The Lucky Seven

After the war, a huge round of Death Eater hunting began. With the building of a new, brighter world, magical law enforcement improved on the crime rate like never before. The witches and wizards of England felt very safe indeed, with the news of several arrested Death Eaters popping up in the newspapers every day. Except, a tiny bit of fear was felt when the same seven Death Eaters were nowhere to be found.

Those lucky seven, as people began to call them, were Lucius Malfoy, Serafina Lestrange, Lethia Lestrange, Theodore Nott, Perdita Black, Henry Gaunt, and Nestor Crouch. Lucius was the first to return to the public after a mere month of hiding from Aurors. Narcissa and Draco weren't punished harshly, since she was not a Death Eater and he was a child. Potter's testimony of Narcissa saving his life and therefore securing the downfall of Voldemort practically cleared her, and Potter also insisted that Draco and Lucius be cleared as well. Draco was easier to clear, since he was a teenager when inducted and was forced to choose between his family and becoming a Death Eater. Lucius had a tougher case against him. He had already been to Azkaban and was a known supporter in both wizard wars. Luckily for him, it was difficult for a jury to not agree with every breath that came from Harry Potter. He returned to his family with no questions asked.

The others were nowhere near as fortunate. They hid in the homes of families that would still accept them, and when their relatives' generosity wore out, they scoured Muggle London for vacant bars and cars to sleep in. Though the Aurors never stopped searching, other cases came up. The wanted signs and ads faded into the background, and only the Aurors who worked their specific case remembered the failure. For all that the Aurors knew, most of them could have died.

* * *

Harry stopped the car one block away from Malfoy Manor. He sent a patronus to one of his Aurors, reporting the Dark Mark overtop of the Manor without confirmation of people inside or of the death. He also reported that he would be going inside to investigate. He cut off his wand line and got out his invisibility cloak. Ginny got out and went for the cloak as well.

"Where are you going?" he asked her.

"Where do you think?"

"You're not –"

"I'm not sixteen anymore, you can't just tell me to hide in the Room of Requirement."

"The kids –"

"They are in a public place with their wands on hold."

"You know what I mean,"

"I do, but we aren't going to be talking about that right now. We need to put on that cloak of yours and sneak into that house."

Harry stopped arguing; she was, after all, no longer a teenager who could be governed by her mother. She knew all of the spells he did, and could probably cast them better than he could. He covered them in the invisibility cloak and walked towards Malfoy Manor.

* * *

"Ooh, I smell blood-traitors!" the woman said with lush excitement. Scorpius was starting to wake up from the darkness. He began to see that the blackness was some sort of spell, and also saw the people around him.

"Fina, he's waking up!" a man said.

"He can't do anything," another female, Fina, said. "He's tied down."

"That doesn't matter!" insisted the man. "The spell is supposed to _make _him a Death Eater you —"

"You _what, _Nott?" she said, more like accused, to the man.

"Oi, lovebirds! Stop your bickering!" Scorpius recognised this voice as his grandfather's.

"Grandpa...?" he murmured in a daze. No one seemed to hear him.

"Don't you see who's outside? They've probably got Aurors all over the place!" Lucius said.

"Your Dark Mark sure didn't help," Fina said.

"We need to leave, now," Nott said.

"Why don't we stay and play?" the woman from the darkness asked. No sentences were made, so Scorpius assumed that the company gave her looks that said _no_.

"What about Scorpius?" Lucius asked.

"We can't take him," said Fina. "We'll just be weighing ourselves down. It's time to Apparate—"

After a few _pops_, there was complete silence. After another few seconds, the door burst open. There were so many voices talking over each other all at the same time that Scorpius couldn't keep up. The only thing he was truly aware of was Mr. Potter lifting the spell that kept him in the air. Slowly, he came down to the ground. He couldn't quite stand without wobbling and shaking, so he set on the ground.

"Scorpius," said Mrs. Potter. He felt a hand on his forehead, then on his cheek. "Scorpius, can you hear me?"

"Uh-huh," he mumbled.

"That's good," she said. Her voice was very soothing, like his mother's when he was acting odd or feeling down. "Do you think you'll be able to stand?"

He shrugged, and he felt himself lifted by Mr. Potter. His legs weren't as shaky, but he was very nauseated. He puked, and he suddenly had a drumming headache. Everything was starting to lose its focus...

* * *

Officer Liam Hayes was an arrogant young man. He just entered into his Auror duties a month ago, and having received a few good reviews from his supervisor, thought that he was already one of the best. On coincidence, he was one of the Aurors who was sent to Malfoy Manor following Potter's report of the Dark Mark. His fellow Aurors on the job were older than him, at least five years and at most twenty years.

He assumed that Potter was already starting to go bonkers. He couldn't blame the bloke, after fighting in the second wizard war and then serving as an Auror for twenty-some years. All of the Death Eaters had been caught decades ago—except for those lucky seven. Nevertheless, it was extremely unlikely that they set a Dark Mark in broad daylight. If it wasn't Death Eaters, it was probably some insolent teenagers trying to be funny.

Only when the Aurors arrived at Malfoy Manor did the truth slap them in the face. Seeing the centuries-old mansion, home to the riches, torn apart with the force of a violent storm scared them. Even at Voldemort's height as a ruler, the Malfoys were never targets. What malevolent witch or wizard would do this to the Malfoys, of all people?

They met with Potter and his wife in front of the mansion. They tried to make her retreat, but she refused, and they didn't have the time to argue. Half went to where the Death Eaters could be heard and the other half went to where Mr. Malfoy's screams could be heard.

Hayes and two others went to Mr. Malfoy. The man was in anguish, crying over his wife's body. His cries tore through Hayes like werewolf's claws; he'd never seen a dead body before, nor seen any impact of death in his life. The two Aurors pulled Malfoy off his wife, and yelled at Hayes to check on the woman. He broke from his reverie and checked Mrs. Malfoy's pulse.

She was dead. And as Potter ran into the room, he found out that the lucky seven were still lucky little bastards.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I had to kill Astoria. I'm wondering if that was a poor choice, such as do you think I should've killed someone else in the Manor instead? I'd really like to hear some thoughts about it. I'm kind of worried that Astoria's death has no impact, since she isn't very developed...Anyway, please review :)**


	8. A Long Walk

The days seem to have flown away from Scorpius at top speed. One day he was at Hogwarts packing his things; the next he was being slapped by his grandfather; after that he snogged Rose in front of her entire family; as a grand finale to his Christmas holiday, he was taken hostage by Death Eaters. All in all, he had a very eventful holiday.

He woke in a hospital bed with his snoozing father in a chair. It was so early the dawn wasn't completely faded yet; Scorpius's mother would have been proud to see him awake at such an early hour.

Scorpius's butt felt numb, so he decided to go for a walk. He must have been asleep for a long while. After a few intimidating cracks from his bones, he almost went back to bed. Low, whispering voices took hold of his interest and didn't let go.

"...the poor boy..."

"This'll tear 'em apart,"

The voices pulled him in more and more. He was never one for eavesdropping, but the voices sounded familiar. He drew in closer and could identify them.

"...Then there we saw him, crying over his wife," said a man.

"That's horrible," Mrs. Potter said. He briefly remembered her voice from a short time ago; from something he couldn't quite remember. In that moment, she sounded very bereaved. Did something happen to one of her kids? It wouldn't be unheard of, the Potters would be an obvious target for Death Eaters...He began to feel horrified for his friends when a voice proved him otherwise.

"As if those Malfoys didn't have enough on their plate," Mr. Potter said. "Raising a child with that name, that reputation."

"I still don't understand," Mrs. Weasley said. "Why would they kill Astoria—?"

She suddenly stopped speaking. In fact, everyone in the room appeared to have ceased breathing all together. He didn't know why they were turned towards him.

"Scorpius," Mrs. Potter said. Her voice held such pity, such sadness. Her feelings weren't spilt over her children or even over her family. She was crying and hugging him because his mother died.

His ears were abruptly cleared, though he didn't know they were clogged at all. Scorpius was releasing inhuman sounds of grief and pain, and then a rush of anger steamed through him. He wriggled out of Mrs. Potter's embrace and faced the room.

"What happened?" he asked. He tried to keep his voice level and failed miserably. Tears burned his face; his heart was aching and it became an effort to breathe. The room remained silent.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY MOTHER?" he bellowed out. He hunched over, clenched his fists—he didn't just sound inhuman, he now looked it. Everyone backed away except for Mr. Potter.

"She was killed by Death Eaters," he said. Scorpius didn't take in his solemn face or his red eyes. He only saw coldness towards his mother and his family.

Scorpius ran to Harry, attempting to push, punch, throttle, to do anything that would give him any amount of hurt. How dare this Auror tell him that his mother was killed? How dare he stare at him with those pitiful eyes?

"I don't want your pity!" he screamed. His voice was incredibly high now, like when he was eleven. He felt just as stupid as an eleven-year-old when Harry grabbed his hands, preventing him from attack. "LET GO OF ME!"

Harry steered Scorpius out of the room and to the hospital courtyard. Scorpius stopped trying to get out of his grip awhile ago. They reached a bench surrounded by daisies and dandelions when Harry let go of Scorpius's hands. Harry sat down and motioned for Scorpius to follow.

He let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not sitting with you," he said.

"If you prefer to stand,"

"I'm leaving." Scorpius began to walk towards the exit when Harry called out his name.

"I know how you're feeling," he said.

"Oh, yeah?" Scorpius asked with fierce judgment. "Did your pet die? Oh, did you loose a family artefact?"

Harry's glare didn't falter. "My godfather died when I was your age. He was killed by a Death Eater."

"You don't have to make up a story,"

"You never heard of Sirius Black before?"

Scorpius's shock was clear on his face. "He—he was your godfather? But he's some second cousin of mine!"

"Sirius and my father were best friends in Hogwarts. He was blamed for my parents' deaths while he was actually innocent. I met him when I was thirteen."

Scorpius seemed genuinely interested in the story for a short time. He regained his sense of anger and snarled, "I don't care about your little memories."

"I only knew him for two years," continued Harry. "You've known your mother all your life."

"YOU'RE NOT MY FATHER!"

"How do you think he's taking this?"

"I don't know, I'll ask him."

"Listen," Harry said. It was more of a plea than anything. "You're both hurting. You'll both act differently. Just remember that the world doesn't revolve around you."

"_I never did!_"

"Scorpius, you need to calm down before you go back in there."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Fine, if you want to be put in the mental ward..."

Scorpius decided to respond with action instead of words; he ran over to a tree and furiously kicked at its roots. The rush of pain to his feet was refreshing compared to his mother's death. His body was protesting the frantic kicks and punches against the century-old tree, but he didn't care. That tree represented everything that ever went wrong to Scorpius—being born into a family hated by wizards, being a Slytherin with Gryffindor friends, having a savage grandfather who seemed addicted to power. Would it ever stop? Why did it all have to fall to him?

Eventually his anger ran out, and all that he had left was sore feet and a racing heart. He slumped on the bench, temporarily forgetting that he had company.

"Why are you _still _here?" Scorpius asked.

"I want to make sure you don't kill a bird or something."

"I wouldn't kill a bird,"

Harry shrugged; "After beating up a tree, I don't know what you'll do."

"Who killed her?"

"That's what you need to ask your father. It isn't my place to tell you something like that."

"It's in your place to tell me that the world doesn't revolve around me and that I'll be sent to the mental ward, but you won't tell me who killed my mum?"

"That's right."

"Ugh, why does everyone make everything so difficult?"

Harry chuckled. "If I had a sickle for how often I said that as a kid."

* * *

Draco was still asleep when Scorpius entered. He felt guilty about waking his father to only talk about death, so he let him sleep a little longer.

Ever since Scorpius was a baby, everyone knew that he would be another Malfoy clone. If his parents had condoned it, he would even have had the same arrogant, drawling voice as his father. As he grew older, Scorpius realised how horrible his family history was. It was a bloodline of pureblood supremacists constantly pushing others down to get to the top. As a boy he felt ashamed; as a teenager he felt disgusted.

Scorpius entered Hogwarts, and all hope of suddenly sporting his mother's appearance had vanished. Every single person on that train knew who he was as soon as he stepped foot onboard. He must've asked every compartment if they had any empty seats, and all of them replied with a definite no. He gave up hope and sat in an empty compartment, feeling more alone than ever before.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw two kids around his age. _They're probably gonna ask to see my Dark Mark, _he had thought. He had already been asked several times on the train. "It's open, if you want it," he had told them. It was a great surprise when they actually opened the door and made small talk with him.

They had already figured out each other's surnames and ignored them. It was a nice relief to Scorpius, but he knew it wouldn't last. Well, Rose and Al were made of surprises. They sailed into Hogwarts on the same boat as him; after Rose and Al were in Gryffindor and Scorpius was a Slytherin, they still talked in the corridors and chose each other as partners in class projects. He had then worried that the Slytherin bullies would push them away from him.

Rose and Al were probably the best friends he would ever have. They were funny, kind, brave, and slightly mischievous. But those weren't the only reasons; he knew it wasn't easy to hang around a Death Eater's son, especially one whose father had a rivalry between their parents. The small efforts they would make, like turning their backs on Slytherin taunts and inviting him over to the Gryffindor table, would always mean a great deal to him.

As he watched his father's sleeping form, he wished one of them was by his side. He wondered if they knew that his mother was dead. They probably did, since Harry or the Aurors with him found her body. He could imagine Harry and Ginny sitting their children down and explaining that Scorpius might not be the same person anymore. He would've preferred to have told them himself—

His thoughts were halted when his father opened his eyes in a daze. In the few moments before Draco saw his son, there was such misery painted on his face, drawn in his premature wrinkles. Scorpius most likely felt the way his father looked.

"Oh Scorpius," Draco said. His voice was already so downtrodden; it broke Scorpius's heart.

"Dad, how did she die?"

"What?"

"How did Mum die?"

The sentence sparked Draco into an uptight sitting position. "Who told you?"

Scorpius considered telling him that Mr. Potter had broken the news, but it didn't seem like the right time to mention his name. "No one had to."

Draco heaved a heavy sigh before speaking. "Death Eaters broke into our house. They wanted to send a message. They put up the Dark Mark, and since that's the signal of a murder...They killed her."

Scorpius was unabashedly, albeit silently, crying. He stared face down to his lap, only looking up at Draco when he had finished. The sight of his son so broken and depressed apparently snapped something inside of Draco. He burst into tears and hugged Scorpius, all the while saying "I'm sorry," between his rasping cries.

* * *

Draco wouldn't leave his son's presence that day. They went to the bathroom at the same times; when one was checked out by a healer, the other was beside the bed. The hospital was suffocating Scorpius with the grief and pain etched in the walls. He suggested that they take a walk.

The streaming sunlight felt odd on Scorpius's skin. Never before had he felt warm and as cold as death at the same time.

"You already know this," Draco said, "but your mother loved you dearly."

"Dad, what do you think happens when we die?" The Malfoys weren't a particularly religious family. However, it suddenly occurred to Scorpius that he wanted to know where the former Death Eater believed he would go.

"The most honest thing I could tell you is that I don't know. If there's a good place, I know that your mother is there, and you will be when you die. That's all that I know of it."

"Grandfather was with them, Dad. He was in the same room with me."

After a beat of silence, Draco said, "I only suspected. If anyone would join the Death Eaters with no You-Know-Who, it would be Lucius."

"Are you mad at him?"

"I'm more saddened by him," admitted Draco. "He probably thinks that he's doing the right thing for you and I. That's what he thought with the past two wars. In all of the scenarios, he was wrong. I don't think that he can admit that, though."

"You're a great father, Dad."

Draco looked down at his son in surprise. He didn't even have to look down, since the two were nearly the same height. "You're a better son."

It was one of their darkest days as a family, but Scorpius swore that he saw his father smile, if only for a second.

* * *

**A/N: Double updates! I feel like such a busy body today (I'm busy at writing fan fiction my life is so complete ;)). **


	9. Crackdown

Lethia gasped in ragged breaths, trying to keep herself from breathing so loudly that they would be caught. Surely, the Aurors could hear her pounding heart from miles away. Her hair fell out of its taut bun, though she barely noticed with her panic-drenched mind.

"Sister! SISTER!" Fina bellowed out. Lethia heard the rushing steps on the pavement and nearly jumped over to Chile out of fright.

She saw her sister's face and felt a tinge of relief, if only for a second. "Oh Fina..."

"What do you think you're doing?" Fina demanded.

"I'm scared," whined Lethia. She felt hot tears fall to her cheeks and felt the urge to just collapse onto Fina's feet. She wanted comfort, a hug from her older sister to tell her that everything would be alright in the end, like when they were scared girls with fresh Dark Marks.

"Fear will not save us," she said savagely. "The only thing we can do is stick together, disguise ourselves, and try to—"

"Fina!" Lethia said as she clutched her sister's robes. She fell to the ground and sobbed out her name over and over, as if begging her for sororal warmth. "Oh sister, I killed her! I've _never _killed before!"

"Get a grip, you pathetic wrench! You did what had to be done."

"No, no," Lethia insisted through her tears. "Not like this."

"There is no preference of how to rid the world of filth." Fina spat.

"No...humans aren't filthy...we're here for a reason, aren't we? All of us?"

"You're right," Fina said with surprising tenderness. She peered down into her younger sister's eyes and saw what they were truly made of: weakness. The decision was already made for her. "We're all here for a reason. Some of us bow to others—" her voice now turned steely, and the grip on Lethia's hand tightened like devil's snare. "—while others _push them down_."

Serafina violently threw Lethia to the side. Her baby sister's startled gasp gave her no remorse. The days of holding onto each other, fearing both the Dark Lord and each others' lives, were over and done with. They were now grown women who had to help cleanse the world. Obviously, Lethia was much too unprecocious for the world they would soon lead.

With a single glance back, Serafina gazed into her sister's eyes one last time. They were still hopeful, despite Fina's evident lack of remorse. How pathetic.

"_Avada Kedavra,_" cursed Fina. There was now one less weakling for the world to be ashamed of, she believed as the hope and everything else left Lethia's eyes for good. _I have done what needed to be done, _she thought to herself.

* * *

When Scorpius heard stories from the war, he had wondered how people survived after losing their loved ones. It seemed unbearable to have your friends and family taken from you by a war, and yet it also appeared that every veteran went through exactly that. People lost friends, siblings, parents, cousins, they even lost people that they only saw in a passing glance everyday and never gave a second thought about. He imagined the wartime as a ravaging, wild place with no certainties and definitely no hope.

Somehow, people made it out alive. People _did _survive, despite the desolate atmosphere with death in the air. So surely he could manage to lose someone in this peaceful time without having his sense of everything shattered, right?

He winced from his recollected old thoughts. He had actually believed that losing a loved one in a war was worse than the loss in a time of peace. He realised that there are different types of wars, no matter what the politicians said. He was fighting a very vivid one in his own mind as he watched his mother's casket get covered with soil.

_There must be a mutation in the Malfoys, _Scorpius thought. Only a blood mutation could cause all of the men to think in the same way, look the same, and_ be _the same. Lucius was the only person Scorpius could imagine who would think of the exact impact of loss a person could cause another. And here he was, doing exactly that during his mother's _funeral _of all places.

Scorpius glanced at his stone-solemn father. Draco was looking down at the earth, his face betraying not an ounce of emotion. Did Scorpius look like that? He probably did; _why are we all the same? _

The ceremony moved on into the church with people milling around and offering him their grievances. The day dragged on and on, which only made Scorpius feel more guilt. Shouldn't the funeral pass before his eyes, as he spent the duration of the ceremony grieving over his dead mother?

The pain of his mother's death had been gut-wrenching, though he felt it subsiding as the days passed. Scorpius knew nothing of mourning, and therefore worried that he wasn't doing it correctly. Are the melancholic feelings supposed to fade, or are they supposed to be a constantly throbbing pain throughout the rest of his existence? He could practically hear Al telling him that he thought too much. He chuckled out loud and wondered what was wrong with him.

"What're you laughing at?" Rose was standing behind him, and she spoke in an entirely too kind voice. Shouldn't she have asked with a steely edge to her voice with deep insult buried underneath? Instead, she was just looking up at him and giving him a gentle smile.

Scorpius hadn't seen her since the Quidditch match, and that wasn't exactly a nice memory to hold onto for two weeks. He should've hugged her, perhaps even kissed her, but he found himself asking the worst thing to ever ask Rose Weasley.

"Aren't you angry with me?"

"Honestly, Scorp," she sighed out, "how cold do you think I am?" She grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it comfortingly.

"I—I didn't mean—"

"Oh, relax," she said as she rolled her eyes. "Let's focus on not going mad, shall we?"

He smiled, the upturn of his lips feeling too foreign. "I'd be glad to go mad with you," he hummed. She released an onslaught of giggles at his corniness, which only increased as he turned red from actually thinking over his words. He could see that Rose was desperately trying to conceal her laughter and failing miserably. Once she tried to stop laughing, she realised that it was nearly impossible to stop. Scorpius enveloped her in a tight hug. Patting her upper back, he soothed her with various slurs of "There, there," and "she'll never truly leave us."

Scorpius managed to lead her out of the church through the back entrance. He released her from his tight hug, but only slightly so that he had his hands resting on her upper arms. She was still laughing when he peered down into her eyes.

"Bloody hell, Scorp, I love you."

If possible, both teenagers felt a shock of lightning course through their bodies. Such a phrase, the way she said it, the complete randomness of it all...

"What?" he asked after an achingly long minute. He wanted to slap himself immediately after he said it. He registered the hurt and mortification on her face just in time to save himself.

"Say it again," he demanded. Again he wanted to injure himself—first he questioned what she said when he had in fact heard her, and then he ordered her to repeat it? He began to seriously wonder if he was finally going mad. He was about to apologise when he noticed that Rose didn't look as dejected as before. He figured he was doing something right.

"I _love _you, Scorp." She said it with no casual playfulness in her voice this time; she was solemn and caring, a side he never thought he'd see play out in her eyes.

For the first time in too long, he kissed her. It was even better without the gaggle of Weasleys staring owl-eyed at them.

"I love you too."

* * *

Harry snorted when he saw Scorpius escorting his niece to the back exit of the church. Many people were sadly shaking their heads from Rose's "fit," but he knew better. He knew all of his family well enough to know their types of laughter, and Rose definitely hadn't been sobbing. Based on the snobby mourners surrounding him, it was probably for the best that they believed her to be crying.

He was quite grateful that Scorpius was taking his mother's death well enough. He wasn't quite as thick as Harry was at that age, and he seemed to accept the help his friends and family offered up to him. There was pain there, but as Harry knew all too well, it would slowly fade.

At the moment, Harry was awkwardly shuffling by Ginny's side. He had been in many positions he never thought he'd be in during his life, and a Malfoy's funeral was definitely one of them. In his Hogwarts days he had imagined dancing on Malfoy's grave, but that was a different story.

Ginny was a good friend of Astoria's. Everyone was saddened by the brute act of violence against the wife and mother, though Ginny actually _knew _her. Living through a war came with the deaths of both people you loved and people you saw passing through the halls without a second glance. It was more like having the wind knocked out of one's body to experience the latter. A complete shock to the mind that anyone could die sent many, even experienced survivors, to the brink of fear and confusion. Harry felt this a myriad of times, but he never entirely forgot the feeling.

It was a new feeling for only half of the couple to be in mourning. Of course Harry was saddened by Astoria's death, as he would be for any innocent person's death. Ginny's mourn was that of a close friend, a fellow mother and wife. They laughed together, gossiped together, consulted their mothering methods together. Harry supported her as best he could, albeit with a timid way of doing so for fear of being seen as insensitive.

"This is too familiar," Ginny said after the funeral as they walked to the car together.

Harry sighed. "I know."

"This...this isn't going to keep going on, is it?" The way she asked scared him so much. The fear in her eyes hadn't aged at all—she could have been that fifteen-year-old girl holding his hand as they cried over Dumbledore's corpse. Except, there was something else added into the fear. Harry took it as a motherly instinct, something she wouldn't have understood all those years ago. The fear she faced as a forty-one year old wasn't for her friends or her boyfriend, but for her children and husband.

"No," he said. "I'll make sure it won't."

* * *

His promise echoed in the back of his mind as he gave orders to his Aurors. He often thought of his family while planning routes and maps, though never before were they so conscious in his mind. He, along with every other Auror in the room, knew what this mission meant. Sure, it was a crackdown, but it was more than that. This mission would be the difference between a third Wizarding war and continued peace.

Most of the Aurors, including nerves-of-steel Teddy, were very nervous over the mission. None of them had any experience fighting Death Eaters. They tracked down werewolves, filled out the paperwork for the arrests of various Purebloods who missed the old bigotry, but never before had they encountered a live Death Eater.

"And finally," Harry said upon his closing, "you lot need to keep your nerves in check. A criminal won't drop their wand if yours is shaking."

That awakened the Aurors, and after a few minutes of gathering supplies, they were off.

Looking back, the crackdown of the last original Death Eater was a huge let down. Many suspected a fully-blown battle zone, or perhaps a heart-pounding hunt. In the end, it was only Serafina left. Lucius and Nott were found immediately, since they used the same hiding spot from the two wars. They believed they were safe because the Aurors never found out about the hideout, though they forgot about the sole Death Eater that remained uncaged and untrailed: Draco Malfoy.

Lethia's body was found one week after Lucius and Nott's arrests. She had been dumped underneath the sewer by her killer, whose identity wasn't a tricky puzzle to solve.

And so, the hunt for the last original Death Eater began.

* * *

Serafina Lestrange was never looked at as a higher person. She was not graced with the podium made for those of Pure ancestry. True, she was a Lestrange. She and her sister were never desired, however. A trademark of the Lestranges is that they were powerful, wealthy, ruthless, and quite handsome.

Serafina's mother was beautiful, though her features were not as striking or intimidating as the Purebloods' were. She had soft eyes and a kind face, with gently rolling waves that cascaded down her back like a caramel-tinted river. Serafina's predominant memory of her mother was when she was struck from behind by a Death Eater. It wasn't exactly her fall or the way her eyes stilled in her last moments from fear—she remembered that moment vividly for the laugh she had given before she died. She had no idea that her killer was standing right behind her.

Serafina was ten years old when her mother died. At the time, she believed it to be a random act of severe brutality. Once she entered Hogwarts, she realised why her mother had been killed. She was a half-blood who had married a Lestrange man (who it was, neither Serafina nor Lethia knew). Half-bloods had been somewhat acceptable at the time, though her lack of shame for her blood impurity had irked her in-laws. She had said something along the lines of not caring about her blood status. Her husband disappeared the next week with not even a note, leaving her with their two young daughters.

Her mother was caring and loving. When Serafina took Lethia's life, she saw more of their mother in her than at any other previous time. Of course, Lethia always took after their mother in looks. It turned out that they also looked alike while being murdered from behind, in a literal sense or not.

That's what Serafina Lestrange reflected on as she backed into the alleyway, surrounded by Aurors with their wands trained on her. She could have apparated away, but something in her couldn't. A few feet away was where her sister died. Though she never gave consideration for her unbeknownst empathy, she simply couldn't move.

Instead of raising her wand in an attempt to escape, Serafina collapsed to her knees and sobbed. The befuddled Aurors arrested her at the spot and led her off.

* * *

**A/N: Finally, I finished this chapter. I know, it's horribly unorganized and sketchy and just blah. Sorry if you don't like it, but I had to post something, even if it was the worst chapter ever. Anyhoo, whaddya guys think? ;) **


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